


Fine

by Auggusst



Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arguing, Arguments, Canon-Typical Violence, Everything will be fine, Fighting, Fires, Hospitalization, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hydra agents - Freeform, Injury Recovery, Italy, M/M, Making Up, Panic Attacks, Steve will be fine, apologizing, burning building, dangerous mission, dont worry things get worked out, hydra facility, mission, self doubt, self hatred, tony saves steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 16:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19023712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: Steve gets severely injured during a mission in Italy, and Tony blames himself. This leads to a heated disagreement, but only because Tony is so afraid of losing him. But, their arguments come and go quickly, and apologies eventually become second nature. It's hard to stay angry when your partner looks gross and miserable and is laying in a hospital bed.





	Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to try something different. Action, first off, because I don't get to write that often, and also arguing! I personally really hate to argue IRL, so it was tough writing it. Couldn't leave it on a sour note though. You know I love it when they're happy. Enjoy.

“You’re an idiot,” Tony announced, pouring Steve a glass of water from the nearby pitcher. He added a straw, and leaned over the bed, tilting it so his partner could take a drink. The brunet’s tone made Steve flinch a little, but he gratefully accepted the drink, and licked his dry lips once finished. Tony set the glass back on the bedside table and sank into the uncomfortable guest’s chair, crossed his arms with a huff. He was visibly irritated.

“Sweetheart,” the soldier began. His voice was a little hoarse, whether from the smoke inhalation or lack of use.

Tony held up an index finger. “No. Don’t you start with me. You don’t get to do that this time.” He straightened, shifted the collar of his t-shirt. His hand grazed a bruise and his lip twitched at the pain. It should’ve been more pain, a lot more, but pain didn’t belong to him right now.

It belonged to Steve, who was lying in a goddamn hospital bed with three bullet holes and scorch marks down his arm and cuts and bruises and smoke damage and everything he _shouldn’t have_. He _looked_ hurt, the exhaustion clear in his eyes, his skin paler than usual, and body uncharacteristically still. The doctors determined it would take him a week or so to heal fully, which all things considered, wasn’t terrible, but unnecessary and unfathomable, if Tony had done his job right.

The assault had been brutal. A town in Northern Italy had become the epicenter of Hydra’s latest efforts. An experimentation facility managed to develop a new series of weapons with stronger firepower and more damaging projectiles. These weapons were distributed to a small group of rival gangs for testing, with the promise of the victors joining the ranks of Hydra. A dispute with the local law enforcement ended in chaos, with no small amount of damage and political unrest. The icing on the cake was the damaging of the Hydra facility by an unhappy gang member. It could’ve been considered a favor, if the facility hadn’t been stocked with explosives and experimental weaponry. When the Avengers heard of the civilians caught in the crossfire of this supposed turf war, actually constructed by Hydra, they sprung into action.

The scene they arrived to was chaotic enough, with people evacuating or rushing around, guided by policemen or emergency services.  The chaos only increased as they zeroed in on the newly found Hydra facility, the agents scrambling to salvage their inventions or to defend the half-burned facility.

Iron Man surveyed the area, circling the facility once, dodging a machine gun’s stream with a roll. He eradicated the device with a well placed rear missile. He dispatched two more on one side of the building. The other side was consumed by fire, its defenses more or less abandoned.

Tony’s eyes scanned the scene as his HUD evaluated incoming data. Intel indicated roughly thirty agents still inside the facility, alongside the twenty or thirty more outside. A small part of him wanted to rescue them, because he couldn’t imagine dying by fire to be very nice, but now that SHIELD was gone, there wasn’t a place to safely contain them. Terminating the issue was more beneficial, for everyone.

His crosshairs settled on an individual on one of the upper floors of the crumbling facility, whose front was a distillery. A quick scan through J.A.R.V.I.S’s database got him identification confirmation- a Hydra higher-up who’d caused trouble in Spain not a month ago and had slipped under the radar. What a stroke of luck that he had migrated here.

“Target’s on the fourth floor, Cap. Take the back entrance, fire’s working up the front,” Tony informed his teammate, circling back to bottleneck the Hydra agents exiting the building’s south side. He prioritized those who carried cargo, much of which was dangerous, as his scans indicated.

“Roger that. Thor, you handle the stragglers and keep an eye on the citizens. Make sure no one gets too close,” Steve replied in his ear. A quick glance at the map on his HUD told Tony the Captain was making considerable progress, working his way inside the building and up the floors.

“How’s evac going?” Tony asked the others, dodging a grenade. He swooped low over the battlefield, dropping a device that made use of the friction and electrons in the air, and connected nearby targets with an electrocuting stream. That particular invention was inspired by Thor.

“Doing good,” Clint announced over the commonplace sounds of rushing citizens. “City’s roughly half clear.”

“Fire line has been drawn too,” Natasha added. She had worked with the local fire departments to contain the damage. “Should be just around the facility now.”

“Times like this make me wish you created rain instead of thunder, Blondie,” Tony said, hearing rumbling overhead.

A crater formed across the field, Hydra agents flung back from the blast. They didn’t get back up. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Stark,” the God of Thunder replied.

“You calling me a beggar?” Iron Man said incredulously, landing on the ground. His armor was pelted with bullets, and threats were loud in his ears. His repulsors made quick work of his opponents. “I’m—one of the— fifty richest people on Earth,” he retorted between blasts.

“Also one of the fifty most annoying people,” Clint added, though it was a joke.

“Real funny Barton. You can walk back to New York.”

“Mission first, walk of shame later,” Steve interjected, the hollow clanging of his shield bouncing around the room cutting into the feed.

“That’s not what ‘walk of shame’ means, Steve,” Tony replied, cutting off a small group’s escape.

“It will mean whatever I want it to mean,” Captain America said firmly. He coughed, alerting his partner’s senses immediately.

“You alright there?”

“Fine. Fire’s getting stronger. Target’s location?”

Tony’s brown eyes searched his system. “J?” he muttered.

_Target’s location is roughly the same. He’s still on the fourth floor, sir._

“Defenses?”

_A few heavily armed agents. Five inside the room, two outside. They seem to be guarding something of importance._

“He’s on the west side with a few guards, heavily armed. Need some back up?” Tony announced over the comms.

“Should be fine, keep sweeping up outside.” Steve replied.

Tony’s lips twitched in irritation, a protest bubbling up, but he exhaled instead. He did as instructed, taking out his newfound frustration with a solid chest punch to an enemy. He knew Steve was capable, but was understandably a little protective. It went both ways. But, he didn’t want to coddle his partner, and certainly didn’t want to start another argument right now. He cleared out a band of agents attempting to escape via vehicle, and flew up, surveying the battlefield.

Thor was making quick work, albeit with a little unnecessary damage. At least it wasn’t as bad as the Hulk. They left Bruce back at the Quinnjet, in case of an emergency. Tony didn’t like pushing him into battle more than he needed to.

A few miles away he could make out the evacuating citizens, who Clint and Nat were among. There was little left to do now, besides contain the fire. His suit wasn’t exactly equipped for that. Once Thor and Steve were clear of the scene, the extinguisher copters could move in and handle the situation.

With a moment to breathe, his mind drifted back to J.A.R.V.I.S’s comment about guarding something important. The correspondence between his other team members faded into the background as he theorized. They had found a few Chitauri artifacts throughout their Hydra raids, but nothing super substantial. There was Loki’s scepter to worry about, but he doubted it would present itself so easily. His curiosity piqued, and he tried to think of any other missing pieces from SHIELD’s collapse. What on earth could they be guarding?

_Sir, structural integrity is rapidly decreasing. The fire has spread to 78% of the building as well._

That interrupted his thinking. He turned his attention back to the facility, which was considerably more on fire. For an instant, a twinge of panic filled him.

“Cap? Status?”

“Closing in. Target’s at the end of the hall,” the soldier replied.

“Might wanna hurry it up. J says the building is unstable.” The insistence in his tone was clear.

“Got it,” Steve said.

Tony circled the building, taking out two or three goons. Thor had joined Clint and Nat with the evacuation after more or less ending the battle. Iron Man waited anxiously for word that the target had been apprehended or terminated. Almost four minutes passed without confirmation, and Tony grew more restless by the second.

_Structural integrity at 15%._

“Sure you don’t need my help?”   

_Clang. Crash_. “Almost—almost got it,” came the reply, cut through the sounds of a struggle.

_13%._

“Steve if you don’t get your ass out of there within the next four minutes, I’m gonna kick it to the moon.”

“It’s fine,” the blond said. There was the distinct sound of someone getting punched in the face, and bullets ricocheting off of the shield. More concerning was the clear grunt of pain that fed through the microphone. “Fuck,” the soldier muttered.

_Integrity at 10%._

Tony couldn’t contain himself now. He entered the facility through a broken window, tried to navigate the collapsing building. The heat was uncomfortable, but not overwhelming, thanks to his suit. The cracking of glass and roar of the fire behind him was threatening, as was the readout on his HUD. The ceiling wasn’t in great condition either. “Steve!” he called, working his way through the wreckage to close in on his partner’s location.

_Integrity at 6%._

“T-target eliminated,” Steve called. He sounded exhausted in a way that didn’t sit well with Tony at all.

“Building’s coming down. Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you!” he said, ignoring the quivering in his voice. He steeled himself, shook off the debris that clunked against his shoulder painfully as he made his way to Steve’s location.

_4%._

Iron Man burst into the safe room, which was quickly filling with smoke, and laid his eyes on Captain America. Steve’s fist was closed around a small device, and he looked shaky on his feet. A quick glance and Tony identified not one, not two, but _three_ gunshot wounds. Fire was on the brunet’s heels, creeping into the room, only adding to his panic alongside the rapidly dropping number inside his helmet.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he had time to demand, looking around the room for an alternative exit. There were no windows, and the walls were reinforced by steel. Not ideal for the inferno that threatened to consume them.

“Maybe I should’ve taken your offer for backup,” Steve admitted, swaying on his feet. Tony pulled him close, avoided his wounds as well as he could. He carved an exit in the wall with a gauntlet laser, praying the walls weren’t too thick. Time was running out. They were cutting it close, even by Tony’s standards.

_2%._

“Fuck, fuck fuck, come on!” the brunet begged, keenly aware of Steve’s weight beginning to rest on him more heavily, they way the black smoke clouded the air and most likely tore at his lungs. Steve was strong, could handle a lot, but this was too much. The arm his shield was strapped to hung slack.

“I’m…I’m not doing so hot,” the blond muttered through gasps and coughs. Tony didn’t need to check his readout to know there were flames reaching out to touch their backs.

With a satisfying _crack_ , the makeshift hole snapped out of the wall, pushed out with the help of a repulsor blast, like a cookie mold.

“I’ve got you,” Tony soothed to the best of his ability, frantically firming his hold on Steve’s form. He flew through the exit, grunting at the extra weight. It was certainly reflected in the lag of his thrusters, whose energy was almost depleted.

For a moment, he believed they were home-free, and safe, but the facility behind them groaned ominously, and shook the earth with its collapse. An initial plume of smoke rose high, followed by much worse. Fire roiled, rising in intensity as the debris turned to kindling. The roar of the fire was louder than the building’s collapse, and the heat stretched its legs explosively. Iron Man narrowly avoided the blast, though Cap’s gasp of pain and the sound of sizzling told Tony he wasn’t quick enough to avoid any more damage.

Looking down, he could see significant burns tearing through Steve’s uniform. He was glad for the helmet, because the smell would have made him sick. Beneath them, the facility was one big flame, as mesmerizing as it was dangerous. The heat rose in waves, and Tony knew they had to clear out quickly. He called Steve’s name, asking if he was alright, but the answer was a hoarse mumble. Guilt overwhelmed him as the blond actually lost consciousness in his arms, most likely from the pain, and panic filled his voice as they flew from the scene. Adrenaline rushed through him, and his ears rang.

“Cap’s injured, real bad! We need—fuck, he needs help! I-I— oh fuck, Steve baby, come on, you’re alright,” Tony pleaded, struggling to determine the best course of action. It was difficult to think clearly. He was quickly losing his composure, rationality leaving him. Steve’s ash-covered face was pale, and there was a bit of blood at the edge of his lip. It made Tony’s heart spasm, and he exhaled in a way that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

“Tony? Tony, calm down.” Natasha’s voice cut through his panic. He was coherent enough to absorb her words, but wasn’t comforted by them. “Bring him to the jet, we’ll take him to the next town over.”

“What if that takes too long? W-what if he—fuck, he looks so bad, he’s bleeding everywhere I-I—“

“Listen to her, Stark. Banner will keep him alive until proper medics can take care of the Captain,” Thor replied firmly, encouragingly.

“Y-yeah, okay,” the brunet replied shakily. He didn’t understand how they were all so calm, how they could pretend like Steve wasn’t literally _dying_. Well, possibly. In Tony’s mind, it was all over. He wished he could silence that devious voice in his head, could remind himself to stay calm and realize that Steve would be alright when he got help. For now though, all he could do was follow directions to make sure Steve got help at all. Iron Man course corrected, and J.A.R.V.I.S, on instinct, diverted the rest of the power supply into the thrusters to get there quicker.

Bruce was more or less ready for them when they arrived. The first aid kit was already open and waiting as Tony pulled his injured partner into the jet and placed him on a cot. The brunet’s hands shook visibly despite his gauntlets, and when he raised his mask, there were tears clouding his vision.

“Fix him, Bruce. You gotta fix him, you gotta f-f-fix—“

“Buddy, I need you to step back a little,” Banner replied calmly. He unstrapped the shield from Steve’s arm and dropping it on the floor. Steve’s other hand was still wrapped around the odd device he had found, and some rational part in the back of Tony’s brain noted that he would have to analyze it later. Bruce unzipped the top half of Steve’s suit, peeled him out of the burned fabric to inspect his injuries. They were bad.

Tony stood, paralyzed with fear, until Thor’s hand settled on his shoulder. “He will be fine,” the god rumbled, surprisingly soft. Clint passed them and sat in the pilot’s seat. The engine roared to life as Natasha stood at Bruce’s side, following his directions to take care of Steve as best as they could before they reached a hospital.

It was difficult to form a response. Tony wished he was more coherent, that he could be of more help. If it was anyone else who got hurt, maybe he would have been, but it was Steve who was hurt. Steve: the super soldier, his friend, his _boyfriend_ , the person he loved the most in the world. Bruce and Natasha’s chatter turned to mush in his ears, and Tony’s skin felt too hot all of a sudden.

“I’m-I’m not, I uh—“ Tony sputtered, chest tightening. This was _not_ the time to have a panic attack. He shut his eyes to the sight of Steve’s injuries, feeling a little nauseous, and took a step back. Thor guided him to a seat, and sat beside him. The brunet hated feeling vulnerable, certainly didn’t like sharing this side of himself with anyone but Steve. But, he couldn’t help the way his legs shook, the way his eyes went wide and muscles tightened up. His breathing was labored, unsteady. Normally, he could pull back, could get it under control. But now Steve was hurt, really hurt and it was Tony’s fault, because he didn’t intervene sooner.

He should have done something sooner. If he had stepped in quicker, had ignored the blond’s direction and worked as backup, things would be fine right now. Steve would be fine, would maybe make a joke, would wipe the dirt from his face and give Tony a kiss, like they’d done so many times before. The team would go out for food or go home and take inventory, or stick around to help the locals, but the sense of urgency would be gone. They would have been happy, would have been okay. If Tony had just _done_ something everything would be fine. Nothing was fine right now, and the treasonous voice in his brain told him it would never be fine again. To his dismay, Tony began to cry, earnestly, and placed his head in his hands, uncaring of the blood smearing on his face.

He felt terrible. He couldn’t remember the last time he went from fine to miserable so quickly. Thor did his best to support him, but it was to no avail. Tony felt guilty, hurt, and afraid, and that combination of feelings would follow him all the way to the hospital, through the first rough twenty-four hours, and even now, when Steve was conscious and on the road to recovery.

Tony didn’t remember much of the first few hours. He remembered the emergency staff taking Steve as soon as they arrived, and being kept company by Bruce. They had waited out in the lobby until allowed into Steve’s newly assigned room. Tony remembered sleeping for an hour or two, Bruce at his side for support. Once Tony laid eyes on Steve, he couldn’t sleep anymore. He was overcome with the need to watch him, to make sure he was okay.

Bruce rejoined the team while Tony stayed in the hospital. Steve slept for a long time, almost nine hours, and whenever Tony was sure he wouldn’t die, he had cleaned himself up in the bathroom and checked up with the others on his phone. They had spent the time helping the town and investigating the little device that Steve found. There wasn’t word yet on what it was, but Tony was better with devices than Bruce was, and would check it out on their flight home.

The latter hours were spent in a mixture of anger and anxiety, and whenever Steve did finally wake, Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel anything but frustration, even as he helped the blond drink water. And because Steve was, well, _Steve_ , he was now insisting that his near-death experience was nothing to worry about.

Tony’s chest was tight again, and his breathing uneven, as he regarded his partner with dark eyes. “Don’t play this off like everything’s fine, because it’s not.”

“Tony, it _is_ fine. I’m already getting better, another Hydra facility is scratched off the map, and those people are safe. It’s fine. I’ve been hurt before.”

The brunet’s eyes widened. He straightened in his seat, no small amount of anger boiling over. “No, bullshit! There’s hurt and then there’s _hurt!_ You could’ve fucking died, Steve. I wanted to help you. I asked if you needed back up and you said ‘Ohh no, it should be fine,’ and then you almost got yourself killed! Fuck, what if I wasn’t there? A second too late and—you would’ve….ugh. ‘It’s fine.’ No it fucking isn’t. It’s not fine, Steve. Look at you—Look at you!”

The blond in question waited for him to finish, and sighed. Tony’s freak out certainly wasn’t making him feel any better. Sure, he had pushed it a bit, but the mission was done, and he was fine. Steve knew he could always rely on his teammates to pull him out of danger. He trusted them with his life, and time and time again, it proved to be the right decision. Sure, this particular time he came out a little (a lot) worse for the wear, but his serum would fix him up soon enough. There hadn’t been a doubt in his mind that things would work out okay.

He was calmer about this type of stuff than Tony. Tony had a tendency to overreact about a lot of things, but Steve could admit that maybe he was justified this time. His blue eyes watched his partner struggle to settle down, and the soldier felt a little guilt alongside his annoyance.

“You’re right,” he offered, trying to settle it without much argument. Steve cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry. I am. I should’ve listened, shouldn’t have underestimated the fire. But the job got done, and that’s what matters. I’m not gonna apologize for that.”

Tony stared at him incredulously, silent for so many seconds that Steve thought he had broken the genius. Finally, he managed to speak. “You’re insufferable. You’re so fucking insufferable.” The brunet frowned, and Steve could see his jaw clench.

Steve wasn’t in the mood to argue right now, but Tony was making it hard not to. He frowned in response. “Right, because you’re a walk in the park,” he replied, maybe a little more venomous than he intended. He couldn’t help it. He was in pain, and tired, and didn’t want to spend an hour getting Tony to see things his way.

His partner’s expression grew darker. Those brown eyes were starting to let on how Tony felt. “Yeah, I’m not a fucking walk in the park, couldn’t be if I tried, but at least I’m not a fucking moron. Captain America: Hero, Tactical genius. You’re supposed to know better! You always chew me out for not listening. Well I’m sorry I can’t fucking take an order. But at least I know when to step up and ask for help.”

The soldier bristled at that. “That’s a lie and you know it. You _never_ ask for help! You could be bleeding out and dying and still wouldn’t call an ambulance! You’ve done more damage to yourself than any bad guy ever has! Don’t start accusing me of being reckless. You’re the most reckless person I know, _genius._ ”

“You’re not getting it!” Tony snapped back. “I don’t give a fuck if the mission was a success or not! What I care about is the fact that my boyfriend almost _died_ because he was too stupid to listen to me. I couldn’t stop him from getting hurt! Fuck! I can’t believe I have to even explain it—you’re so dense!”

“I’m not being dense! You’re just overreacting! I’m fine! I’m not as fragile as _some_ people!” the blond replied. His voice was raised now, more than he would like it to be, but he couldn’t help it. The tension had mounted. Tony had pushed all his buttons.

It had been a while since their last argument. In his head, he wiped the ‘X Days Without Incident’ board.

It may have been a low blow, but in that second, Steve couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t want to do this, but his patience was wearing thin.

Tony’s face became blank for an instant, and then expressed betrayal. “Really? Gonna hit me with that one? I’m _fragile?”_

“That’s not what I meant. You—“

“No. You meant it. You meant that I’m twelve kinds of fucked up and I’m too weak to handle anything. You all think it. Everyone thinks it. I’m glad you finally said it out loud at least.”

Steve groaned in frustration. The brunet wasn’t listening. He rarely did. He was twisting Steve’s words as usual. “Tony.” The blond didn’t get a chance to finish his thought.

“No, I get it. Stupid, emotional Tony. What a dumb, weepy bitch. And you’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry my fucked up life makes me _fragile._ I’m sorry I’m stupid enough to worry. I’m sorry I’ve wasted my time giving a fuck, when you obviously don’t care.”

Steve fell silent, trying to figure out what to say. He had struck a really sensitive nerve without meaning to. He deserved the lecture he was getting now, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He stared into his partner’s face and knit his brows, heart tightening at his tone.

Tony took a shaky breath, and continued. He was visibly vulnerable now, less angry and more hurt. “I mean—jesus Steve, w-what am I supposed to do? What would I do if-if you were gone? God, and you don’t even… I can’t…I just…” he drifted, and averted his eyes. Steve suspected they were filling with tears. Tony’s arms curled into his chest, and the blond’s anger dissipated entirely. God, he hated arguing. He hated what it did to himself, and he especially hated what it did to Tony. Why was it so hard to let things go?

Steve swallowed hard, dropped his gaze to the floor. He felt just as bad as Tony now.

There was a long silence. Both were itching to apologize, but couldn’t find the words.

“…Will you come lay with me?” Steve asked finally, tone noticeably softer than before. The argument was over, and was thankfully a lot shorter than some in the past, but that didn’t mean it didn’t need patching up.

Wordlessly, Tony stood from his seat and brushed a hand over his face. He exhaled, the tension leaking out of his shoulders. He came to the edge of the bed, and Steve managed to scoot over a little, grit his teeth at the pain. Tony positioned himself at his partner’s side, their shoulders touching. He looked up at the ceiling, avoiding the blond’s gaze, still feeling a bit defensive. He hadn’t found the right words to apologize with yet. He had to start somewhere, though.

“…I’m sorry I yelled at you. You’re tired and in pain and it wasn’t your fault—you were doing your job. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Tony said quietly. He was never good at apologies, but Steve deserved one.

“It wasn’t your fault either,” Steve replied. “You did what you could. You saved me, Tony. Your bravery got me here, and now I’m getting fixed up.”

“I wasn’t brave.” Tony scoffed. His volume dropped, barely above a whisper. “I was… I was just scared. I still am.”

Steve was familiar with the feeling. Too often he was at the other end of this situation, with Tony coming home with a concussion or large gash that required stitches, or narrowly avoiding death, tumbling through the air. Thankfully, it was never anything too serious, but Steve would feel panic seep into his bones, would be filled with fear, until he was certain Tony was alright again, and those times weren’t even serious, not like this was. Steve could admit that it was serious. It certainly felt serious. His body was stiff and full of pain: sharp, pronounced pain from his gunshot wounds and dull, aching, twisted pain from the burns.

He reached over though, brushed his fingers against Tony’s comfortingly. “I’m sorry I scared you. You know I didn’t mean to.”

The brunet sniffled a little. “I know. I do. It’s just… I can’t lose you. I can’t.” His voice was soft, raw with emotion. Tony huffed stubbornly, wiping away a stray tear with disgust.

“It’s…an occupational hazard. I can’t promise that you won’t lose me, or that I won’t lose you. We’re Avengers. That’s the risk we take, doing what we do. But hey, look at me,” Steve said.

Brown eyes reluctantly drifted up, and settled on the soldier’s tired visage.

Steve turned on his side as best he could, to look at his partner more directly. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed it down to speak again. “You can bet I’ll try my hardest to stay by your side.”

Tony nodded, exhaled with resignation. “I know,” he replied. “And I’m glad.” He reached over, gently brushed a hand over Steve’s forehead, sweeping back a stray hair.

The blond’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch. It was gentle, loving, and a marked improvement from the pain the rest of his body felt. He raised a hand, beckoned Tony closer. The scientist snuggled up against him, wary of Steve’s injuries, and rested his head on the blond’s broad shoulder. The room was quiet, but comfortably so. It was funny how easy the flip switched: friction, overwhelming and angry, and softness, easy and calm and kind. It was intense. Steve wondered if other relationships were like this, or if it was unique to theirs. He doubted regular couples had to deal with the things they did though.

Battle was a subject they would always disagree on. Steve was a soldier: For him the mission was everything. He came last. Tony wasn’t like that. He wasn’t a soldier, he was just a man. The individual took precedence in Tony’s mind, whether they be a teammate or a bystander. The two approached missions differently, and always would. At least their arguments could be contained to one aspect of their lives. Outside of ‘work,’ they had a lot to agree on, and were surprisingly good at compromising.

Tony’s breathing had settled. He was at ease again at Steve’s side, and was thankful that he hadn’t been too late to save him. Feeling the blond’s warmth against him was comforting, a reminder that things would be alright. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” Tony muttered against his shoulder.

It was difficult to admit, but he had. Steve was right about the situation. He would be fine. In a few days, things would go back to normal, and the blond would be good as new. Tony had just let his emotions get the best of him, as usual. He was glad that their argument had passed so easily though. Both were quite capable of holding a grudge, but weren’t much in the mood for that these days. The stakes were too high to be angry with each other all the time. Tony would rather enjoy Steve’s presence, focus on the good instead of the bad, and the feeling was mutual.

“It’s alright,” Steve replied. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re fragile.”

Tony wasn’t sure if he believed that, but he wasn’t going to dispute it. Instead he snuggled up closer to Steve, and closed his eyes. Now that the anger was gone, he just felt exhausted. The blond yawned above him, and Tony encouraged him to sleep. There was no argument necessary this time. Sleep was the best way for Steve to heal, and he was not opposed to it right now.

The two settled down to nap, and Tony finally thought that things were okay after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it.


End file.
